Unexpected Outcomes
by theconsultingdreamer
Summary: Sam's always had bad headaches, even when he was a kid. They aren't your average migraines, though, and they're becoming something more than what Sam and Dean think. No slash, starts off teen!chesters, eventual tags to Season 2 ***On hiatus until further notice***
1. Chapter 1

So yes, I'm doing another hurt!Sam. This will eventually have tags to Season 2, I'll put those tags on the chapters they apply to. For now, it's teen!chesters

* * *

Sam had always had bad headaches, even when he was barely more than a toddler. Dean always told him it was because he would think too much, but in all honesty, he had no idea why his little brother would sometimes have to curl up in a dark room for hours as the headaches slowly progressed into migraines. But people got migraines, that wasn't scary. Until it was.

Sam was barely 12 the first time it happened, already starting to shoot towards Dean's height. It bothered him to no end to have his little brother be nearly as tall as he was. It also bothered him how sullen and moody Sam was becoming. He was pretty sure he hadn't been that dramatic at 12.

They were on a highway in God knows where, because isn't that how it always happens. Someone gets sick, and they're miles from anywhere that can be called civilization. Dean had noticed Sam was pale and rubbing his temples, so he had climbed into the backseat to try and massage some of the tension out of the younger boys neck. John had made it clear that he wasn't planning on stopping any time soon, so they were trying to get Sam's headache under control. Migraines in moving vehicles were terrible.

A half hour had passed with four ibuprofen and Dean continuously massaging Sam's neck before they gave up and Sam laid down across the backseat, his head on Dean's leg. They pulled a blanket over him to block out the light, and opened the windows a bit so he wouldn't get too hot. For a while, it seemed like that was working.

Almost an hour later, the blanket shifted a bit and Sam poked his head out. "Dean?"

"Yeah, Sammy?"

"Feel sick."

Dean met John's eyes in the rearview mirror. "You gonna throw up?"

"I don't know."

"Well, warn me."

John spoke up. "We'll stop for a bit in a little while. I'm getting hungry anyway, and you can get some air."

Sam had already retreated under the blanket again, but a muffled "thanks" was heard. Dean went back to watching out the window until the blanket was tossed back, and Sam sat up, looking infinitely worse. "Dad?" Dean said. "I really think we should pull over."

John glanced in the rearview mirror and sighed, pulling off by a grassy field. Sam tossed the door open and stumbled a few feet from the car, gulping air and leaning over. Dean slid out and trotted over to stand beside him, one hand rubbing his back. "You're good, Sammy, I gotcha."

This wasn't that unusual, especially if they were stuck in the car. What was unusual was when Sam stood up and wiped his mouth, a trickle of blood was running from his nose to his chin. "Uh, Sammy? Your nose is bleeding."

John heard Dean and headed over with some napkins. Sam wiped at the blood and stumbled a little bit. "Everything looks weird."

Dean caught Sam's shoulder. "What do you mean, weird?"

"Colors are too bright, I can't…" he cut off suddenly and grabbed his head with a cry. Dean grabbed him and lowered him to the ground, cradling him. "Oh god, it hurts, it hurts." The kid was shaking so violently, Dean was worried he was going to start convulsing. He looked up at their dad, panicked. "What do I do?!"

John had dropped to the ground beside them, and was holding Sam's face in his hands. "Sam, Sam, can you hear me?" Sam opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment, all his muscles went slack and his head dropped back, limp and unconscious. Blood still trickled from his nose.

"Shit, Dad, what do we do?" Dean was close to panic. John stood up and grabbed a water bottle, pouring it over the kids face. "We give him a couple minutes, and if he doesn't wake up, we take him to the hospital."

The next few minutes were the most nerve wracking minutes of Dean's 16 years, but eventually Sam's eyes fluttered open, bloodshot and unfocused. "De?" he said. "Dad?"

"We're right here, Sammy."

His eyes focused on Dean. "My head hurts."

Dean and John shared a glance. "How bad?"

"Migraine…"

John spoke up. "We're gonna stop at a motel, soon. Why don't you rest in the back with your brother until we get there?"

"Okay." His voice was faded. Dean stood up, the lanky 12 year old light in his arms. They positioned themselves in the backseat, blanket pulled over Sam's face as they headed down the highway again. John, true to his word, stopped at the first motel they saw, and got Sam laid out in bed with all the lights off. When he had fallen asleep, Dean pulled John aside. "What do we do?"

John watched his youngest sleeping fitfully in the dark room. "If it happens again, we have to take him to a doctor."

"I hope it doesn't happen again…"

John just nodded.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey, new chapter up really quickly because I wrote it in class, I went through and tried to fix all the autocorrect errors and such, but if any slipped through, I'm sorry. Enjoy!

Of course it happened again. And again. The fourth time was when Dean finally dragged Sam to a doctor. Sam sulked in the waiting room of the clinic. "I'm fine, Dean, I just get migraines."

"Migraines that have you unconscious and bleeding?"

Sam didn't say anything.

A moment later, the door opened. "Mr. Winters?"

They both stood up and made their way over to the man who looked to be about thirty. "I'm Dr. Jackman. How can I help you boys today?"

"My little brother Sam has been having migraines that give him nose bleeds and make him pass out."

The doctor nodded as they entered the exam room. "Well, I'll take a look, but we'll probably need to take a CT scan to see if there are any abnormalities in his brain."

Dean nodded. Sam sat on the exam table, looking pissed. He glared at Dean the entire time he was being checked out. When the doctor left for a moment, Dean said, "Okay, chill with the bitch face. We need to make sure you're okay."

Sam didn't respond, just stared at the wall. Almost 14, he was constantly withdrawn and moody. Dean chalked it up to teenage hormones, but sometimes it pissed him off. "Don't let your face freeze that way."

If looks could kill, Dean would be dead fifty times over. He sighed. The room was tense and silent until the doctor came back in. "Alright, let's get the scan done so we can figure out what's causing this. Sam, if you'll follow me."

Sam hopped off the table and followed Dr. Jackman out of the room. Dean busied himself with a sports magazine until they returned, a half hour later.

Sam still looked annoyed as he sat back down on the table. Dr Jackman turned to face Dean. "So I looked over the scans, and I didn't find anything out if the ordinary. I think Sam is suffering from severe migraines, but nothing more serious than that. Our bodies can do strange things while we're in pain. I'm going to write you a prescription for medication to deal with the migraine when they happen, and that should help with the migraines effects. If you want to look into this further, I would suggest going to a neurologist, but as I said, I don't see anything abnormal on the scans."

Dean nodded and took the prescription from the doctor. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." The doctor nodded and left the room. Sam hopped down from the table. "Can we go now?"

Dean nodded, feeling mildly defeated. "Yeah, let's get this filled and head back to the motel room." He had been hoping they'd find something, just so they'd be able to make Sam better. Watching his little brother in pain was pure torture, especially when he knew there was nothing he could do about it. He hoped that the medication would help.

It did help at first. It didn't stop the headaches completely, but it helped. Slowly, though, the medicine began to have less effect. It started with the light and sound sensitivity returning, followed by the nausea and nosebleeds. Sam tried to pretend he was fine when John was home, but when it was just him and Dean, he let dean help him as much as he could. More often than not, it was holding Sam's hair back from his sweaty face as he threw up, wiping the blood from his face, and making sure all the lights were off and any sounds were as quiet as he could get them. They only happened about once or twice a month, but when they hit, they were rough. But Sam was a Winchester, and Winchesters were strong. Dean admired the way Sam dealt with the pain and didn't let the headaches slow him down. As Sam got older and the distance between them got farther, the one thing that Sam could still rely on was that Dean would always be there to help him.

Sorry the ending is really corny, I wrote this in class.


	3. Chapter 3

First chapter from Sam's point of view. He's about 16 in this chapter

The migraines didn't happen very often, but when they did, Sam was down for hours after. He hadn't had one in nearly a month, but he knew that would change. The pain never stayed away for long.

As luck would have it, Sam was home alone when the familiar throbbing started in the back of his skull. Dean was out with a girl, and John was on a hunt. John wasn't due back for another week, but Dean had promised he'd be back by one. That was always the time Dean set for himself, and so far, it was a promise he'd never broken. A glance at the clock told him it was only eleven right now. By the time Dean came home, the worst would be over. Sam knew he could call Dean, that his brother would come home the second he asked, but Dean hadn't been out in a while, and Sam didn't want to ruin his night. "I'll be fine." He said to himself. With a sigh, he grabbed his pills from his backpack, swallowed two, and closed the curtains before laying on his bed. The room was quiet and dark, and he took slow, deep breaths to try and counteract the increasing pounding in his skull.

Behind his eyelids, bright colors started to flash in time with the throbbing. The whispers that came with the migraines started up. They sounded like soft voices, like people across the room were talking, but if he tried to focus on what they were saying, the pain would intensify until he passed out. With the whispers came images and bright flashes of color, but nothing that ever made sense. Nothing he could ever recall when he could think again.

Suddenly, a feeling somewhat like having a car dropped on his head struck him, and he cried out. Waves of pain washed over him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized his nose was bleeding. That didn't matter. Nothing mattered except trying to live through the next second, because he wasn't sure he could. No one could be in this much pain and survive. He had to be dying. Oh god. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't...

Bile rose in his throat, and turning his head to the side so he wouldn't choke on his own vomit hurt so bad he blacked out for a second. Unconsciousness would've been bliss, but the pain was unwilling to let him go yet. His throat burned from the stomach acid, and the whispers grew louder, until they were almost screams. If he had been able to focus, he would've heard his name.

Somehow, he was sobbing. Through the pain, he could feel the gasps ripping themselves from his body, hear the inhuman sounds he was making. It had never been this bad. The pain, the pain, he couldn't...

With a final cry, darkness rushed in and enveloped Sam in it's cool embrace.

It was 12:30 when Sam finally came to. For a few moments, he laid there, catching his breath and waiting for the fog in his head to clear. When he finally turned his head to check the clock, he sat straight up. "Shit," he groaned, looking at the mess on the bed. He had to clean up before Dean got home.

He stood up and looked down at his clothes in disgust. His shirt was ruined. His jeans were messed up, but he couldn't afford to throw those away. He only had two pairs. Stripping off his clothes, he balled up the shirt and threw it in the trash and dropped his pants in the bathroom sink. While he waited for the shower to warm up, he started scrubbing the dried vomit from his jeans.

Steam started to fog the mirror, and he glanced up to see how bad he looked before going to wash up. "Oh god..." He whispered. His eyes were bloodshot and dark bags stood out against his pale skin, but that wasn't the worst. Blood covered the lower half of his face and had dripped down his chin. It looked as if his nose had being spewing blood like a faucet. He groaned and turned to get into the shower.

Dressed in clean pajamas and wet hair combed, Sam opened the window to air out the room. Gathering up the soiled blanket, he slipped out of the room and headed down to the motel office.

A half asleep man was sitting at the desk when Sam walked in. "How may I help you?" He said in a tired voice.

"My little brother is sick and he puked all over the blanket. Do you have any clean ones?"

The man gestured to the door on his right. "In there. Leave that one on the floor so we can wash it."

Sam nodded gratefully and stepped into the room. New blanket in hand, he slipped back out of the office and down to their room. Not five minutes after he finished making the bed did Dean slip in. Sam was pretending to be asleep on the bed. He heard Dean softly call "Sammy?" Not getting a response, he stepped over and pulled the blanket higher over Sam's shoulders. "Night little bro."

Sam waited until Dean was asleep in his own bed to let himself fall asleep. If Dean found out he had had an episode and not called him, he would be dead. But Dean didn't mention anything. With a sigh, Sam rolled over and closed his eyes, drifting to sleep with the sound of Dean snoring in the background.


	4. Chapter 4

Let me know how it's going, and any thoughts or suggestions as to how I should continue it. Reviews are love :)

When the acceptance letter came in the mail, the tension between Sam and John had nearly hit a breaking point. John had been around for longer than usual between hunts, and Sam couldn't stand it. John always found his faults and never acknowledged his successes. Dean tried to keep the peace, he really did, but it rarely ever worked.

Sam had grabbed the mail on his way home from school as usual, but today, there was no need to flip through in search of a letter. A packet was in the mail, addressed to him. His heart had nearly leapt through his chest, because no college ever sent a rejection letter in a packet that big. He stuffed the envelope into his backpack and tried to keep his face neutral until he could lock himself in the bathroom to read the packet in private.

Dean was at work and John was out. Sam yanked out the envelope and tore it open, not daring to breathe.

Dear Mr Winchester,

We are proud to inform you that you have been accepted...

Sam dropped the paper as his world simultaneously burst into joy and came crashing down.

The mind blowing migraine that followed had him curled up in the bathroom, gripping the toilet and spitting out blood and stomach acid as the waves of pain crashed over him. There were no whispers this time, but crackles of fire. It sounded like the motel was on fire, and for all he knew, it could've been. He was too lost in the pain to care.

In front of his eyes, he could see flames and flashes of gold. It wasn't really registering in his mind, but he was more aware of these images than he ever had been before during one of his episodes.

He was vaguely aware of Dean coming in and crouching down beside him. "Oh Sam..." He was rubbing circles in Sam's back and brushing the sweaty hair from his face as Sam continued to heave.

Dean whispered soothingly and helped him clean off his face and get to bed after he could move again. It was making Sam feel horrible, because he knew he was leaving. His mind was already made up, no matter what John did to stop him. But Dean. Dean he would miss so much. Especially the times like this, when Dean took care of him. The thought of dealing with this alone, no one to call if it got too bad, made his throat feel tight. Tears threatened to fall as Dean helped him lay down in bed. "You good, Sammy?"

"Yeah." He threw an arm over his eyes before speaking again. "Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. "

Even with his eyes closed, he could tell Dean was smiling. "No problem little bro. I've got your back."

The words sent a knife through his heart. He swallowed roughly. "Yeah. I know you do."

He hoped that wouldn't change.


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry it's been so long! Here is a quick chapter. I am brainstorming the rest :)

The first time someone other than Dean or John is there for one of his episodes, Sam's room mate almost calls 911. It takes a lot, including showing Todd his prescription pills for migraines, to convince him otherwise. "I've had them since I was a kid. They suck, but the doctors all said there's nothing serious going on." He assures as he changes into a clean tee shirt.

"How often do they happen?" They've been roommates for almost six months, since the school year started, and Todd has been out for most of sam's migraines. "About once a month."

"And if I'm here, I should just get your pills and turn off the lights?"

Sam smiles. Todd was his first friend at Stanford, and he's a good guy. "Yeah, thanks."

Todd is the one who introduced him to Jess. They were in the library and Sam saw her. Todd caught him looking at her and dragged him to say hi to her. Sam almost murdered him when they got back to their room.

He called her to ask her out, after much insisting from Todd. He was beyond shocked when she said yes. His first instinct was to call Dean and tell him about Jess, but the idea was only there for a second before he pushed it away. He wasn't part of their family anymore.

For their first date, Sam took her to see a movie and got her some ice cream after. She was sweet and funny, and they talked about everything they could think of over ice cream. They were talking about the best way to steal an airplane when the manager of the ice cream store told them they had to leave. "We're closing up, time to move on," he said as he shooed them out the door. Sam started imitating him once they were out of earshot, and Jess was doubled over, laughing. It was the first time Sam had seriously had fun since leaving home.

He walked her to her dorm, because it was nearly one in the morning and no one was around. "I had fun tonight." He whispered as she fumbled for her room key.

"Me too. We should do it again." She whispered back with a smile.

"I'll call you tomorrow. I mean,today." He gave her a grin and she giggled.

Taking a deep breath, he leaned in to kiss her. She met him halfway, pressing their lips together for a few seconds. When they broke apart, she whispered, "good night, Sam."

When he saw her face two nights later, leaned over the toilet and groaning with the intense pain, he figured it was because he had been thinking about her so much. By the time the pain was gone, he had all but forgotten the images that had come with the pain.


	6. Chapter 6

Jess didn't know about the migraines. They've been together for a couple months, and Sam knew he'd have to tell her soon, especially if they kept staying in each others rooms overnight.

It's a perfectly normal day when he tells her. Normal, except the pounding in his head that he is almost certain will escalate into something worse. They're at the library, trying to study, when he starts rubbing his temples, willing the pain to leave. Jess looks up from her textbook. "Sam? You okay?"

"Yeah." He said, and sighed. He was going to have to tell her. He couldn't run off without an explanation. "I get migraines. Really bad ones, with nose bleeds and throwing up. It's not pleasant."

Her eyes widened slightly. "Do you have any pain pills for them?" She reached out to gently squeeze the back of his neck. "You wanna go lay down?"

He winced. "Yeah. Pills are in my backpack."

She stood up and held his arm to steady him. "My dorm is closer and I know Leah will be out for a while."

"Jess, you don't have to-"

She cut him off. "Let me help."

By that point, the pain was making his stomach turn. "Okay."

She took his hand, and two minutes later helped him lay down on her bed. She grabbed him some water to wash the pills down with, set a trash can next to the bed, and sat gently next to him. Lifting his head onto her lap, she massaged his temples and combed her fingers through his hair.

Surprisingly, that seemed to help. The pain wasn't as sharp as usual, the flashing images and whispers less demanding in nature. He tried to focus on keeping his breathing even, trying to time his breaths to hers.

While Jess took the edge off the pain, it didn't stop it completely, and before long, he felt his stomach roll unsettlingly with the waves of hurt in his brain. "Jess..." He struggled to choke out. She understood what he needed and propped him up with the trash can beneath his chin, rubbing his back as he heaved.

When he was through, she set the can back down and went back to rubbing his temples. Slowly, the pain lessened until he could open his eyes once more. In the dark dorm room, he could barely make out her face, but concern was rolling off her in waves. "Hey." He whispered.

"Hey." She whispered back. "You okay?"

"Yeah." He took a breath. "Thank you so much, Jess."

He saw her lips turn up in a small smile. "Just glad I could help." She leaned down to kiss his forehead. He leaned his head back as she pulled away, and their lips touched softly. Sam shifted and held out his arms. "Lay with me?"

"Of course." She scooted down and snuggled into his arms. "I was worried about you," she whispered into his neck.

"I'm sorry."

He felt her smile. "It's okay. I'm just glad you're okay."

In that moment, Sam realized he was in love with her.


	7. Chapter 7

I'm sorry I never update, I'll try to be better about it! This chapter has spoilers for season one, if you've seen Bloody Mary, you should be good.

He's lying on the bed, eyes closed. Nothing is out of the ordinary, not a thing, until a wet drop hits his face. He flinches and groans, thinking their apartment must have a leak. Right above their bed, too. He'd talk to Jess about moving the bed until it was fixed. Another drop hit his face, and he opened his eyes to see not a leaking wet spot on the ceiling, but Jess. On the ceiling. Her face was frozen in a scream, her nightshirt soaked with blood. Blood. That was what was dripping on his face. "No!" he screamed. "Jess!"

Someone was shaking him. He flailed around, trying to get them off. He had to save her. "Jess!"

"Sam, I'm right here! Wake up!" He opened his eyes to see her holding onto his arm, looking terrified.

He stared at her for a moment, reality setting in. It was a dream. Again. Jess was safe in bed next to him. A breath that he hadn't realized he was holding rushed through his lips. "Oh god…"

"Nightmares again?" Her face was still a bit pale, probably from being woken up by him screaming her name, but the fear in her eyes was replaced with concern.

"Yeah…" he rubbed his temples. The headache that usually followed these dreams was setting in. It reminded him of the migraines he used to get, but not nearly as strong. He hadn't had a migraine like that since before his birthday, and he was incredibly grateful.

She pulled him into her arms. "It's okay, Sam. I'm okay."

He buried his face in her neck, breathing in the scent of her. Her warmth kept him in the moment, reminding him that she was alive, that this was real. "I don't know why I keep having them."

"You're probably stressed. I get nightmares a lot when I'm stressing over something." She had pulled back enough that she could rest her forehead against his, but she was still rubbing his back.

"Probably." His heart was still pounding, and he wasn't too eager to close his eyes again anytime soon. These nightmares seemed so real, it scared the living hell out of him. He was rather grateful they had decided to move in together, as it was always easier to deal with them when someone else was around. Plus, he could be assured that she was safe without scaling the side of her dorm to look in her window.

Her other hand came up to rest on the back of his head, bringing him back from his thoughts. "I could think of a way to help you relieve some stress and help you sleep."

His heart started racing again, but for a different reason. Smirking, he snaked his arms around her waist and shifted so she was on his lap. "And that would be?"

She leaned in to kiss him deeply. "You have to guess. But it involves a lot more of this," she kissed him again, "And a lot less of this." Pulling back slightly, she grabbed the hem of the tee shirt she slept in, and pulled it over her head. He pulled her back down to kiss her again and whispered, "Sounds like a pretty good idea."

After, as he was falling asleep with her in his arms, he thought about rings. They had been together for going on three years, and he hoped it would be so much longer. She was incredible. She was everything he wanted, and he loved her. It still amazed him that she loved him back, with all his secrets and nightmares. He decided that a single diamond would be perfect. Whispering, "I love you," he fell into nightmare free dreams.

Yes, kind of corny and lovey and stuff, but I felt like we needed some of that, with all the pain of the previous chapters.


End file.
